


Going Once, Going Twice

by Measured



Category: Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bachelor Auction, F/F, F/M, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 03:44:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8733532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured/pseuds/Measured
Summary: Strapped for money, Naesala starts a charity bachelor auction to fund the reconstruction of the Bird kingdoms.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Echinoderma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Echinoderma/gifts).



> Merry Christmas, Jen.
> 
> Thanks to Wind for the beta.
> 
> Also contains Boyd/Mist, Naesala/Leanne and Shinon&Gatrie brotimes, but I didn't want to tag for stuff that only appears a bit.

The auditorium was empty. Naesala surveyed it, from the red curtains, the judges seats, to the small stage. The curtains abruptly parted, and a spotlight was trained right on him.

 

"Selling? _Selling_? Have you learned nothing?" Tibarn gestured to Reyson. "In case you forgot how you backstabbed your oldest friend."

 

"I was undercover, and the reason why Oliver was put behind bars, might I remind you," Naesala said in a low voice.

 

"A bachelor auction," Reyson read aloud. His brow furrowed. "Selling dates?"

 

"It's a tradition in Kilvan culture."

 

"Why am I not surprised that prostitution is your main draw?" Tibarn said.

 

"You couldn't afford me," Naesala said. 

 

Tibarn sputtered, completely rendered speechless. Naesala breezed past him, svelte in his black suit that hugged every inch. "Score one for me," Naesala said.

 

Tibarn gritted his teeth.

 

"Are you going to be a part of this?" Reyson said.

 

"Leanne wouldn't abide by it," Naesala said smoothly. "But we found some volunteers, all Beorc, if that makes you feel better. Though Gallia's ambassador volunteered himself several times. He even left his calling card, his number, and a note about how a bidding war between his subordinates could pay off the majority of our debts. I'm surprised he didn't scrawl his details on the wall and tattoo them on my wrist."

 

"He's a crafty one," Tibarn said. 

 

"It's simple: We bring up volunteers, and people bid on them. The money goes to charity. Everyone is happy."

 

"I still don't like it," Tibarn said.

 

"A shame you both volunteered as judges," Naesala said. "Maybe you should read the bills you sign a little more." Naesala held up a slightly grease-stained piece of paper.

 

Tibarn narrowed his eyes. "This was supposed to be a pizza receipt."

 

Naesala pulled the bill back. "It isn't my fault if you don't read the fine print before I share my lunch with you."

 

"What pizza requires signing a contract? I swear, you'd sell your soul for a Meat Lover's pizza," Reyson said.

 

"You know I can't focus when I'm hungry," Tibarn said. He crossed his arms over his large chest. Shirts had to be left open, or they had a habit of breaking apart when he lifted his arms. 

 

Reyson massaged the bridge of his nose. "Fine. Tell us more about this 'Bachelor auction.'"

 

Naesala smirked. "Gladly."

 

***

 

The event was packed. The crowd spilled out into the parking lots, with long lines. That sneaky Gallian ambassador had gotten in after all; his food, refreshments and souvenirs of _things from Ike's apartment_ was doing quite well. Of course, as soon as the name "Ike" was mentioned, approximately half of Tellius arrived. A murmur came across the crowd, as Naesala stepped out. His suit was expensive, his grin was sardonic, and his hair was gelled back as he surveyed across the crowd.

 

"This is an ancient Kilvan custom," he said. He slowly explained the mechanics to the rapt audience. A single spotlight trained on him. Naesala brushed his hair back. Reyson rolled his eyes.

 

"Right in the spotlight, just like he prefers," Reyson muttered under his breath.

 

"Are you up for auction?" piped up a woman from the back. Her voice was smooth, like honey. She twisted a lock of her curly dark hair about her fingers. Her wrists jingled with several gold bangles.

 

Naesala smiled. Above him, in the balcony, was an indignant huff and series of chattering in the bird language.

 

"I'm married, but thank you," Naesala said.

 

"Now, it's up to our _esteemed_ Hawk King to start," Naesala said.

 

"How does he manage to make everything sound like an insult?" Tibarn said in an undertone.

 

"It's a skill inherent to Crows, along with stripping," Reyson said dryly.

 

Tibarn nodded. "He won that pole-dancing competitor fair and square."

 

As the light shone on him, Tibarn cleared his throat. "First up, we've got Gatrie," Tibarn read aloud. 

 

Gatrie, fresh from a reenactment, came on in full armor. "Who needs a knight in Shinon--I mean, _shining_ armor?"

 

No cheers rose up. There was a cough, then silence from the audience.

 

"We'll start the bidding at ten gold," Nealuchi said. He leaned on his cane as he looked over the papers.

 

The room was silent.

 

"Nine gold?" Nealuchi said hopefully. The audience remained silent.

 

"Surprised you can't hear wolves howling in the distance," Reyson said under his breath.

 

"Or a tumbleweed pass through," Tibarn replied.

 

"Eight?" Nealuchi said, more desperately this time. "Come now, surely someone must want this--Beorc in armor."

 

Gatrie grinned at the audience. He tried to flex, but the armor kept his arms to his sides.

 

"So much for your great plan," Tibarn muttered. 

 

"Seven? Six? Five?"

 

The price went steadily down, though Gatrie was impervious. He smiled winningly at the extremely uninterested audience. 

 

"One gold? Surely someone would want to pay one gold for a date with--"

 

"Ugh, fine. This is just embarrassing." A hand went up in the back. Shinon's shirt was on backwards. Unknown food stains covered the cuffs of his pants. His unbrushed red hair fell into his face, almost hiding the look of irritation, but not quite.

 

Gatrie clasped his gloved hands. "Shinon, buddy! I knew you wouldn't let me down."

 

"You're paying for dinner for the next month," Shinon said.

 

"Oh, you know I'd pay for the drinks too," Gatrie said.

 

"Make that the next ten years," Shinon said. 

 

Gatrie laughed. "You're a good friend."

 

He stepped down to join Shinon, who looked more than a little hungover. Then again, there had never been a point in history when Shinon hadn't looked a little hungover, even when he was drunk. 

 

"And now, Boyd. It says here, he's a country boy, and has 'managed to win against Ike multiple times.' It doesn't specify what."

 

Boyd took the stairs two at a time, and almost fell right on his face. He looked to the audience with a grin. His jersey was just a little too big for him, but that never stopped him. It was the same green of his hair, flecked with yellow lettering, _10_ , and the numbers of his favorite player across the back.

 

"Oh, you know. Arm-wrestling, training, fun stuff like that." Boyd's nose scrunched up when he smiled. He flexed. "We butted heads plenty of times!"

 

Nealuchi shook his head. "I'll have to lower that price," he said under his breath.

 

"Starting at 5 gold--"

 

A glass pan was held up.

 

"You can't actually bid with meatloaf," Tibarn said.

 

She rose up, deftly pushing through the crowd to place the glass pan on the judge's table. "It's still warm," she said. "Everyone says I've improved a lot since the last time. No one's gone to the hospital in _ages_."

 

Tibarn lifted up a piece and took a bite. Reyson raised one eyebrow. "Living dangerously, I see."

 

"As always." He licked his finger tips thoughtfully. "This Beorc food isn't too bad, and lunch won't be for at least thirty more minutes. I'll accept it."

 

Nealuchi shuffled the cards.

 

"A single gold coin, and a piece of meatloaf. This is some auction," Tibarn said.

 

"We've only just begun," Naesala said.

 

"He's got an ace up his sleeve," Tibarn said.

 

"He always does," Reyson said.

 

"Usually because he's cheating at cards again. The only card game he can win is _strip poker._ And that was only because he threw several games, waited until we were drunk and started to pole dance."

 

Naesala grinned and lifted one eyebrow. "So you weren't quite as drunk as you claimed to be. So much for your _blackout._ "

 

"That was not the thing to bring up at Leanne's wedding," Tibarn said.

 

Their bickering came to a halt as wheels screeched.

 

"Sorry, I've got to make them oil these things," she said.

 

A woman pushed in a cart full of covered food. Her teal hair was tied back in a ponytail, and an apron hastily was tied over black slacks and a shirt, which had _security_ written on the front.

 

"Oh, there's the food--it came early," Tibarn said. "Good, I could eat about five dinners."

 

"Just because you can, doesn't mean you should," Naesala said.

 

"I'll work it off." He opened his dark green shirt a little. "You shouldn't be talking. My six pack makes yours look like a tiny little high-school student who hasn't even seen a kegger before," Tibarn said.

 

Before Naesala could respond, one enthusiastic voice rose up from the back and drowned him out. A curvy blonde woman in a tight-purple catsuit started to bid. "One hundred! No, she's way too cute for just a hundred. Two hundred. No, that's not nearly enough. One thousand!"

 

"Is she having a bidding war with herself?" Reyson said.

 

"Looks like it," Tibarn said. "Is this a Beorc thing?"

 

"I wouldn't know," Reyson said. "I only recently became even on speaking terms with them."

 

"You used to be so passionate, and so very graphic with the way you talked of destroying your enemies," Tibarn said wistfully.

 

"Now I save it for the bedroom," Reyson said.

 

"That's not nearly enough. One thousand-five hundred!"

 

She blushed deep red. "Um, Heather..." 

 

"No, no, that's much too cheap. She's worth far more than that. Make it three thousand!"

 

"Your enthusiasm is appreciated, but she isn't part of the auction," Tibarn said.

 

Naesala lifted his hand to speak, then shook his head. "Have you _no_ business sense?" he muttered.

 

Tibarn ignored him.

 

"This whole thing has been appallingly heterosexual, and I plan to fix that," Heather said. She tossed her blond hair, and reached into her purple embroidered purse. "I'm not going to let little things like _the rules_ get in the way. Five-thousand, no Five-thousand five-hundred! By the way, do you take payment in jewels?"

 

"Yes, we do," Naesala said. He rubbed his hands together in eagerness.

 

"Trust a Crow to lust after shiny things," Tibarn said.

 

"Hawks are no different, they just go for shiny white feathers instead," Naesala said. 

 

"Says the man married to a Heron," Tibarn said.

 

Naesala smiled. "I suppose we have a few things in common after all."

 

"Well, I suppose there's nothing against adding someone late, if she agrees. Do you--" Reyson squinted at her nametag. "Nephenee?"

 

"Wasn't she on the security staff?" Tibarn said.

 

"Um, they were short staffed and asked me to help, so I did." Nephenee twirled her teal hair around one finger. "Well, if it's for charity, I reckon it'd be good to put myself on the list. Don't know what someone as pretty and classy as Heather would want with a date with me, though."

 

"Excuse me? I'm going to spend the entire date telling you how _utterly wrong_ you are."

 

Heather made her way up to the podium. Her duffel bag was filled with glittering jewels of all cuts and sizes.

 

"That's some payment," Reyson said dryly.

 

"Oh, I just found them here and there. I've got an eye for these things," Heather said casually. 

 

"Begnion, Crimea or Daein?" Tibarn said in an undertone.

 

Heather smirked. "Daein."

 

Tibarn gave her two thumbs up. "We'll definitely accept that payment."

 

She locked her arms with Nephenee. "But Heather, it's so much," Nephenee said.

 

"Oh, you're worth that much, and more. I'd pay millions, but I'd have to go--find some more Daein jewels that fell off a truck," Heather said. 

 

"You were saying about it being a bad idea?" Naesala said.

 

"You're right; this _meatloaf_ isn't half bad," Tibarn said.

 

***

 

Nealuchi rubbed at his back. "My bones are getting too old for this." He sighed, and shuffled the cards. "Next up, we have a cook, and former member of the Crimean army, Oscar."

 

Oscar still wore his apron over his clothes, as if he'd been drafted straight from the caterers. He waved at the crowd, and then held his hands behind his back. 

 

Just as Nealuchi was about to list the numbers, a man in a red tracksuit sprung up from his chair. "I challenge you!" He pulled out a genuine _axe_ from the bag at his side. "I came as fast I heard. It wasn't enough to leave the Crimean Knights, and leave me heartbroken and without the sword to my axe, now you're _finding another rival?_ I refuse to accept this! I am your true rival, and I'll prove it!"

 

Oscar took a step back. "Kieran--"

 

"You can take my blood, my sweat, but not my devotion to Crimea, and my rival from me! Whoever tries will taste my steel!"

 

Several screams filled the auditorium, as he wildly swung his axe in arcs.

 

Naesala shook his head. "Every auction, one of these breaks out. Every single time."

 

"Does he not understand the concept of dating?" Reyson said.

 

"He doesn't understand a lot of things," Oscar said.

 

Tibarn rose to his full height, with wings unfurled. "That may be a well-made axe, but you'll have to put it away."

 

"Never! I come for my _rival_ , and we will leave together, arm wrestling all the way!"

 

Tibarn nodded to the crowd. "Ulki. Janaff."

 

"There's no need." Oscar reached into his pocket and handed them some gold.

 

"Here, that'll solve it." he turned back to Kieran. "Put the axe away; I told you to save that for the bedroom."

 

Kieran let out a shriek as he was escorted out by two Hawk security guards.

 

"Just like our second date," Oscar said with a sigh.

 

***

 

Ike paced the line of floor past the curtain. Mist peeked through, her yellow dress fluttered as she jumped over the cords, and stepped straight in his path.

 

"I'm surprised the floorboards haven't fallen through. Ike, you've been shifting for hours."

 

"Soren isn't here yet. He didn't answer the last texts I sent," Ike said.

 

"You know he has to turn it off on the flight. He'll be here," Mist said.

 

"I'm surprised they talked you into this. I mean, I'm sure Aimee will be there. She's everywhere."

 

"So much for restraining orders," Ike said. 

 

"Well, they are just pieces of paper," Mist said.

 

"Are you sure about this?" Mist said.

 

"It's only a few hours. If I survived babysitting Empress Sanaki, I can survive a few hours eating dinner with someone," Ike said.

 

"Even with Aimee?" Mist said. She stood on tiptoe, and squinted at him. "Are you sure?"

 

"Soren said it wouldn't come to that," Ike said. He brushed the leftovers of orange dust from his faded tee-shirt. Across the front was a faded _Greil's Mercenaries_ , the old team shirts. His jeans were ripped, but faded and ripped had gone into style, or at least that's what Ranulf kept telling people.

 

"Now, onto the main event. Our very own Hero of Crimea, Ike!"

 

"Go break a leg! But not literally!" Mist called after him.

 

Ike stepped out into the spotlight. 

 

Ear-piercing screams and cheers filled the room. Ike stiffly walked out to the podium, and blinked into the flashing lights. He blinked, unable to see the crowd before him. He had never quite gotten used to being popular, and surely never would. Screaming fans held no draw for him. But, he'd made a promise to help the auction, and Ike didn't go back on his word.

 

"The bidding begins at 500 gold--"

 

Instantly, a chorus of voices sounded, pushing the bidding higher and higher. Some Ike recognized, many others he didn't.

 

"Six-hundred!"

 

"Six-fifty!"

 

"Seven hundred!"

 

Another older noble woman held up a bunch of gold clutched in her hand. "One thousand!"

 

"Fifty-thousand," Aimee called out. She grinned smugly, and fanned herself with a pamphlet. 

 

Ike grimaced, as he looked out into the crowd for anyone, even Sanaki, to bid.

 

"Fifty-thousand going once...fifty-thousand going once, going twice---"

 

The doors in the back suddenly opened. A voice called out from the back. "One million!"

 

The auditorium went silent. Everyone craned their necks to see the new bidder. Soren stood there in the auditorium, a paper in his hand. "And Aimee, I believe you're violating the terms of this restraining order." 

 

He walked up to the stage, in a suit Ike had never seen. His hair hung long, just slightly unkempt from a run. There was a tear in his left leg, and scuffs across his shoes. But Soren had made it, he'd made it.

 

 _"Soren?"_ Ike said incredulously.

 

"We'll have plenty of time to talk later," Soren said. He turned towards Tibarn. "Who should I make the check out to? Or would you prefer suitcases full of money?"

 

"Well, that's not shady at all. It'll fit right along our 'fell off a truck' jewels," Reyson said. He brushed his blond hair back, and dusted the edges of his white suit.

 

"Daein corporations...." The paper crinkled in Tibarn's hands. He read it with a furrowed brow. "They tortured our kind." How did you get ahold of this?" Tibarn said.

 

"With King Ashnard's death, the assets have been released. I've been spending all month getting his affairs in order."

 

"You're a lawyer?" Ike said.

 

"Not quite," Soren said.

 

"He had many more than just a million," Tibarn said. 

 

Soren raised one eyebrow. "Turning down a bid?"

 

"There's more charities. We can bleed him dry later," Reyson said.

 

"He sounds like you, Soren," Ike said.

 

"I suppose I can see some similarities," Soren said.

 

"I accept your shady suitcases of money," Tibarn said.

 

"Going once...Going twice..." Nealuchi raised his cane like a gavel. His dark robes fluttered. "Oh, this is exciting!"

 

Aimee's face twisted. "No! This was my chance. You---You couldn't have bested me! It isn't possible!"

 

Soren turned towards her. He lifted his chin smugly. "Accept your defeat with grace. If you bid higher, I'll simply add more millions."

 

Naesala steepled his fingers. "A shame judges and staff can't add to the bidding."

 

Reyson narrowed his green eyes. "No bachelor auctions, even if you're just being a money-grubbing Crow and driving up the price to drain his funds."

 

"Next time I'll fix the contracts better," Naesala said.

 

"You're always in my way," Aimee said. She thoughtfully stroked her chin. "It's almost as if you've got some ulterior motive."

 

"It's almost as if you're violating the terms of the restraining order," Soren said.

 

"---Sold, to the highest bidder!"

 

Several shrieks filled the room as Soren filled out the paperwork. Ike disappeared behind the curtain before there was a riot.

 

***

 

Ike waited at the edge. With Nephenee gone, there was a serious gap in security, one which meant Aimee was just a door away.

 

"You came," Ike said.

 

"Of course, Ike. I promised I would. Though it was later than I would've liked. I got caught in a layover. I had to run, but I made it."

 

"I guessed, from the rip," Ike said.

 

"Ah, yes." Soren looked down to his toes. "It'll take quite a bit of stitching to fix."

 

Ike chuckled. "Isn't that like you. You're a millionaire, and you're sewing up your suits. Honestly, though--A million dollars.... You never told me you were rich. Or did I just bankrupt you?"

 

"A million dollars is a mere fragment of this corporation," Soren said.

 

"A million dollars," Ike repeated, still very dazed. "I have never seen that much money in one place that wasn't a game show...and you're saying you have more. Care to explain why you never told me all this?"

 

"I didn't want to tell you until I was sure. A woman came and said she was my mother, and that I had an inheritance. I hardly had a chance to talk."

 

"And you're..."

 

"Part of the royalty," Soren said. "Disfavored son of a tyrannical monarch who killed his way to the top. If it was well known, I would join him in that infamy." 

 

"Huh. All this time you were a prince and you never mentioned it?"

 

"Titles are meaningless. They've elected someone to rebuild Daein, and she has very progressive stances on...laguz. She's quite popular. If I tried to take that back, the people would likely try and execute me."

 

"Fair enough," Ike said. "Thanks for saving me from Aimee again."

 

"If I let her get you, then she'd never go away."

 

"She's probably not going to anyways," Ike said.

 

"But she'd view this as a victory, and proclaim herself your 'girlfriend'. And that's not acceptable."

 

"So you bought me," Ike said. His mind still on the obvious. "I guess I owe you a date?"

 

"That's...." Soren's hand tightened at his side.

 

"We have a lot to catch up on. Besides, I can't think of anyone else I'd rather be on a date with. It'd never be an awkward dinner at a too-expensive restaurant with you," Ike said. He smiled, just slightly. "Thanks for always saving me from math tests and stalkers."

 

"Always, Ike," Soren said.

 

The curtain parted. Mist peered through. "Hey, it's pretty bad out there. Some of the people out there did _not_ take losing well. Maybe head out? I'll send them the wrong way.

 

Soren quickly slipped his arm in Ike's and led him out the door. They hurried through hallways, with the sound of footsteps near.

 

Ike looked down, aware of something that had always been there, a comfort nestled against him. Soren would always be there for him, be it algebra or Aimee.

 

"Hey, Soren. Will you go out with me?" 

 

"That's what we're doing. After we escape this building, at least."

 

"I mean next time, after this," Ike said.

 

Soren stared up at him with such a tender and fragile gaze. "Ike, you're..."

 

"Already planning the next one. You must be rubbing off on me," Ike said.

 

Soren's grip tightened. They slipped through another set of doors, and he hit the lock.

 

"I mean it. I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be."

 

Speechless, all Soren could do was nod as Ike leaned in. The warm brush of skin, and the pulse point of Soren's neck, beating frantically. The movies made it all seem way easier, or that could be the height difference. Every answer he needed was there, against Soren's lips.

 

They broke apart at the sound of footsteps down the hall. A scream broke the silence. Not Aimee's, but someone else entirely. 

 

"--We need to keep moving," Soren said.

 

"Damn, I hope I didn't get _another_ Aimee. One stalker is more than enough," Ike said.

 

"I'll take out as many restraining orders as it takes, Ike," Soren said.

 

"Thanks for watching my back--and my GPA," Ike said.

 

Soren nodded, as they slipped out a side door, and into the parking lot.

 

Ike never thought his first _real_ kiss that wasn't Aimee attempting to seduce him would be with screams just outside the door, but in the end, it seemed fitting.

 

***

 

Epilogue:

 

The restaurant closest to the auditorium had sponsored the dates, and so there were plenty of familiar faces. Shinon and Gatrie were already downing shots at the adjoining bar section, while Mist removed her yellow coat trimmed with fur at the front coat check, as Boyd reached to place something on the top shelf. He could've had checkered tablecloths, pot roast and breadsticks, but not for the first time--and surely not the last--Kieran had a meltdown.

They weren't thrown out, but certainly they were _strongly_ encouraged to leave. 

Just as he turned to leave his seat, Oscar caught sight of Ike at the far corner, holding hands with Soren across the table. "About time," he said under his breath.

Thankfully, Kieran's weapons had been confiscated at the auditorium, otherwise Oscar would be bailing him out of jail again. At this rate, all the police officers were on first name basis with him, considering not a day went by that they weren't called for a noise disturbance, or Kieran streaking through the yard naked, because he forgot to put pants on after his three hours of training under a cold waterfall .

Oscar sighed, as he put on his coat, and stepped out into the night air. "Kieran, for the last time, he wasn't trying to take my hand in marriage, he was trying to take our order," Oscar said.

"I will fight anyone who dares come between our destined rivalhood!"

"It's a good thing I can cook, because I can't take you anywhere," Oscar said.

***

"Oh, your purse is bigger. Quick," Heather said. She shoved he entire basket of breadsticks in inside, and quickly closed the zipper.

"I love those, but are you sure?" Nephenee said uncertainly.

"They're free. _Technically,_ it doesn't even count as stealing." 

She waived down the waitress. "Hey, could we have more? I'm such a big eater." She winked at Nephenee, as the waitress left with refills.

"I love them too," Nephenee said sheepishly. "I could eat 'em all day. Especially after I get in from the fields and haulin' hay. Nothin' gives me an appetite like that. Oh, I'm babbling again, I'm sorry," Nephenee said. She ducked her head to hide her blush.

Heather intertwined her fingers, and smiled. "It's absolutely adorable. Now, tell me more about those hay bales you were lifting. Maybe you have pictures? Were overalls involved?"

"Sometimes? They're right comfy," Nephenee said. "And I ain't taken any pictures but--if you wanted to take 'em, I think my family wouldn't mind." She blushed bright red again.

Heather smiled, and twirled a lock of gold hair about her finger. "I always did think a country trip would be nice. A shame farms don't fall off of trucks," Heather chuckled to herself. 

Before Nephenee could reply, another order of breadsticks came. Heather looked conspiratorially towards Nephenee. "Let's eat them _all_." 

Nephenee couldn't help but laugh as Heather wielded the breadstick like a knife, and made stabbing motions into the air.

"Now there's a challenge I reckon I can do right by. You know I won the pie eatin' contest three years in a row?"

Heather's eyes widened. "Please say you have pictures of _that_." 

"Oh yeah, got plenty of 'em. Got beat out by the girl who came with the shopkeeper's caravan, though. I ain't regained my title since. She's a real champion, been shakin' up the whole place. Probably videos out there somewhere."

"Hello, second date!" Heather lifted up her breadstick in triumph. "I _love_ a girl who can eat."

Nephenee blushed scarlet. She couldn't speak for a whole minute. Heather even timed it with her watch.

***

Ike chuckled. The order was late, the restaurant crowded, and yet it was the best date he'd ever been on. Never mind that the only other dates were attempts by Aimee, or points where he failed to realize they were dates, and wondered why his female friends were suddenly trying to kiss him when they paid so much for that movie ticket.

Soren looked up from the menu. Despite that their food order had come, Soren kept the drink menu. He kept his gaze busy over the various alcoholic drinks, even though Ike knew Soren wouldn't even take a sip if Ranulf dared him.

"What?" Soren said.

"In the movies and books, people always find things out on dates. But we already know everything about each other," Ike said.

"Well, not everything," Soren said.

"Actually, you're right. We have a lot of catching up to do," Ike said.

He laid his hand across the table, palm up. Soren stared down and slowly placed his smaller hand there.

"I wanted to do that a long time," Soren said in a small voice.

"Me too," Ike said. His brow furrowed at the thought.

"You did?"

"I did, I just didn't realize it. So much happened--things got pushed aside."

"I see," Soren said softly. Silence came. It wasn't the usual silence, the comfortable knowing between them.

"Don't get weird, Soren. I know you've got a thousand worries going through your head, but nothing's going to change. Well, some things will change. Sometimes we'll do this, and other things, I guess. I don't know much about this 'dating' thing."

He squeezed Soren's hand. 

"Thank you, Ike," Soren said. 

This time, the silence was comfortable, like old friends who'd only just found each other again.

***

Naesala took a slice of meatloaf. The auditorium was mostly empty now, save for a few Hawks sweeping the floors.

 

Naesala stared at him intently.

 

"Fine, I'll be the bigger man and say it. You were right. Then again, it isn't hard for me to be the bigger man," Tibarn said.

 

"I'll ignore the last part, and simply focus on the first." Naesala lovingly sifted through a stack of money again.

 

Tibarn chuckled. "What's next from you Crows, a strip-poker charity event?"

 

Naesala smiled slowly. "It's already scheduled for next month. In fact, you signed the contract to volunteer." 

 

He held up a paper. Tibarn frowned as he read over the contract.

 

"This was supposed to be a dry-cleaning bill left in my hotel room, it says so right on the front," Tibarn said.

 

Naesala shrugged, and pulled the bill back. "It isn't my fault if you don't read the fine print."

 

Tibarn's fist curled at his side. "I should--"

 

"--Respect our brother-in-law."

 

Tibarn turned back as Reyson stepped out onto the auditorium floor. "As much as I'd like to see you do that, we can't have Leanne crying. At least it sounds fun this time. We have to get a rematch for the last time he pole-danced us under the table."

 

Tibarn's hand relaxed. Rematch had such a wonderful ring to it.


End file.
